


dare to land upon

by pearl_o



Series: dare-verse [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blow Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-24
Updated: 2012-03-24
Packaged: 2017-11-02 11:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles and Erik really should be studying, but they get a little distracted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dare to land upon

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to pocky_slash, who is the best at encouragement. ♥

They should be studying.

That was why Charles was here in the first place, to help Erik study. Erik hadn't asked him - he wouldn't ever ask him - but he didn't have it in him to say no when Charles offered. It was important, this time; Erik hadn't flunked the last math quiz, but he'd done badly enough to worry. His scholarship was dependant on him keeping a certain GPA. Erik was good at a lot of things - swimming and languages and physical sciences, for instance - but math wasn't one of them. But Charles was great at it, just like he was great at all his subjects. He'd skipped two grades, and he was still the smartest kid in their year by far. 

They had started out studying, at least. Charles walked home with Erik after school. Erik used his key to let them into the apartment, and he'd taken off his shoes, thrown his backpack on the couch and walked the few steps into the kitchen area to get them each a Coke out of the fridge. When he turned around again, Charles was standing in the middle of the room, still holding onto the strap of his knapsack on his shoulder, and looking around.

It was the first time Erik had ever brought Charles back to his place. When they hanged out, it was always at Charles's house.

The entire living room was about the size of Charles's private bathroom, Erik thought. The kitchen area was about the size of his bed.

Charles looked at him and smiled. "I like your place," he offered. "Are all those pictures really of you?" He gestured to the wall over the couch, decorated with loads of framed photographs of Erik and his family, babyhood all the way through his mom's final birthday. Erik and his dad hadn't really taken a lot of pictures since she was gone.

"Some of them are of my mom and dad before I was born," Erik said, shrugging.

"Lovely," Charles said. It was the sort of thing Charles said, the sort of thing that nobody else their age would ever say. But it sounded right when Charles said it.

They sat next to each other on the couch. The couch was big - Erik could lie on it full length without his feet hanging off, even after his last growth spurt - but they sat close, on the same cushion, holding Charles's textbook in their laps between them.

They were sitting close enough that their arms and thighs were pressed up against each other, and every time Charles leaned forward to point at something, clarify something in the book, Erik could smell the clean sweet scent of his shampoo.

They should be studying, Erik told himself. He needed to study. And his dad - his dad worked graveyard shift, so he was home, he was sleeping not that far away, and it wasn't as if the walls in their place were so thick. Erik didn't even put on the TV in the afternoons because it might wake him up.

"Stop it," Charles whispered. He lay his hand over Erik's and squeezed. 

"I - what?" Erik said. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. "I wasn't doing anything."

"You can't just look at me like _that_ ," Charles said. "Not if you're not going to do anything. It's not fair." He squirmed a little, adjusting the way he was sitting.

A flash of something broke in Erik's gut. He sucked in a shallow breath. "Oh, man, Charles, do - do you have a boner right _now_?" 

Charles squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. "God, shut up, Erik."

Erik picked up the textbook and set it down on the coffee table, and he turned to face Charles, planting one knee on the couch cushion. Charles tilted his head towards Erik's, looking up at him with widened eyes. Erik gazed at Charles's mouth, the way his tongue slipped out to moisten his lips.

Sometimes at lunch Erik would finish his lunch really fast, and he'd spend the rest of the time just watching Charles, trying not to be obvious about it, but Charles could always tell, always gave him a secret smile. There were always lots of couples in the cafeteria, girls sitting on their boyfriends' laps at the tables, guys kissing their girlfriends so easily, like it wasn't even a big deal.

Some people knew about Erik and Charles - their family, their friends - but not everybody. It wasn't like they announced it. 

Erik couldn't imagine just kissing Charles there in front of everybody, like it was a casual thing, like it didn't mean anything.

He leaned forward, pressing his mouth against Charles's. Charles sighed faintly, and then his hands were on Erik's shoulders, holding on tight and bringing Erik down with him as he fell back onto the cushions. They kept kissing even as Charles pulled on him, until he had Erik arranged the way he wanted - the way Erik wanted, too, his weight pushing Charles down against the couch.

Pressed together like this, Erik could feel Charles's hard-on for himself. He was almost as far gone now, too. When Erik shifted position slightly, it rubbed his cock against Charles's, and even through the layers of their underwear, his jeans and Charles's khakis, it felt amazing.

He broke off the kiss and lowered his head down to Charles's neck, sucking on the skin there. Charles's hand came to rest in his hair, not pulling, but a tight grip. When Erik nipped gently at the dip of his collarbone, Charles let out a moan, loud and heavy in the quiet apartment.

Erik jerked back, propping himself up on his arms. "Charles! My dad - you can't make _noise_ -"

"Sorry," Charles gasped, "sorry, sorry-" His fists clenched around the fabric of Erik's t-shirt before he slowly relaxed them. He took a deep breath. "Should we- maybe we should go to your room?"

There was a bed in Erik's room. And a lock on the door.

"Yeah," Erik said, breathing out slowly. "Yeah, okay."

As soon as they were in his room, he could see Charles's mind working, all the thoughts in his face obvious as he looked around. His eyes rested on the stuffed bookshelf, the boxes of comics, the toys covering his dresser, all in quick succession, before his gaze stopped on Erik's bed. Erik had remembered to make it this morning before he left for school, and he was suddenly grateful for it, along with the lack of piles of dirty clothes covering his floor.

Charles turned back to Erik, stretching himself to his tallest height to kiss him. He set his hands on Erik's t-shirt, tugging on the hem with intent. "Is this okay?" he asked, meeting Erik's eyes.

Erik nodded. They pulled the shirt off together and let it fall to the ground. Erik shivered a little as Charles ran his palms slowly down Erik's chest.

"You, now," Erik said softly. Charles took a step back and removed his shirt carefully. He gave Erik an embarrassed smile when he was done. He reached out and took Erik by the hand and led him to the bed, pushing him down to sit on the edge.

It surprised Erik that Charles didn't sit down next to him. He remained standing, instead, between Erik's legs, his hands resting on Erik's shoulders. Erik looked up at him, letting the question show on his face. Charles was always flushed when they were making out, but his face went even redder now.

"What is it?" Erik said.

Charles didn't speak. He knelt down instead, placing his hands on Erik's legs to push them wider apart. Erik could feel the heat of his hands even through the denim. 

Erik couldn't breathe. His dick was so hard he thought he might actually die from it. He searched for words and finally managed, "Charles. You don't have to- I thought you said you weren't ready-"

"I wasn't," Charles said. He was rubbing his palms up and down Erik's thighs in a way that Erik was pretty sure meant he was nervous, but was just turning Erik on _more_. "I think I might be ready now, though," Charles continued, flashing Erik a soft smile.

Erik had to lean down and kiss him then.

"It's okay, then?" Charles murmured. "Do you want to?"

"Yeah, " Erik said, "yeah, of course, of course I do. If you're sure."

"God, just open your pants already, Lehnsherr," Charles said playfully, shoving Erik away. He leaned back on his haunches, watching. Erik's hands felt clumsy at his fly, but he managed it, and he stood up long enough to shove his underwear and jeans down and out of the way before he sat back down.

He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he placed them palm-down on the comforter beside him, resisting the urge to touch himself.

Charles was staring at his cock like it was something new, scary or thrilling. He'd seen it before, but maybe it was different from this angle. But he was just _staring_ , not doing anything, and Erik had to bite his lip viciously against the ache to be touched. This was Charles's idea, it would go at Charles's pace.

Charles did move, then, finally, and Erik sighed in relief when Charles's hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Charles leaned forward, and he pressed a close-mouthed kiss to Erik's dick, just beneath the head. It would have been chaste if it had been anywhere else on his body, Erik thought, but as it was, it caused Erik to jerk wildly. His cock pushed forward against Charles's cheek, leaving a spot of wetness, and Charles breathed out a faint laugh of surprise and delight.

"Just relax," Charles said, which was typical Charles, really. Erik might have told him so, but he couldn't really talk, not when Charles was licking him so carefully. Not when Charles's red, red mouth was opening wide around the head of Erik's cock. He watched Charles pushing his head further and further down. His mouth met his fist, but just for a moment, and he was pulling off. There was a chain of spit from Charles's mouth to Erik's cock, only breaking when Charles turned his head away to clear his throat, not quite a cough.

"It's fine," he said, anticipating Erik's worry. "That was just too much. It's okay." He took a deep breath and turned his attention back to Erik's cock. He didn't take as much in this time, keeping it shallow as he moved his head up and down. He started stroking Erik's cock with his hand, too, and at first it was awkward, uneven, but then Charles found a rhythm somehow, his mouth and hand together.

Erik closed his eyes against the sight of Charles's head bobbing between his legs. He said, "Charles. I'm gonna-"

Charles removed his mouth from Erik's dick; it made a loud smacking sound that hung in the air, even over Charles's gasps for breath. Erik was chewing hard on his own lip, trying not to make any noise, but Charles's hand was still on him, still jerking him off, and he couldn't avoid the helpless "Please-" that escaped him, just before he came, spilling into Charles's palm.

When Erik opened his eyes again, Charles had opened his own trousers, and his hand had disappeared under the waistband of his shorts - the same hand he'd used on Erik. His wrist was moving in tiny, cruel jerks. Charles's eyes were closed, too. 

Erik curled his hand in Charles's soft hair and tilted his head up, kissing him until Charles gasped against his mouth. 

"Mmm," Charles said after a moment. His voice was lower than usual, markedly rough around the edges. "Do you have something I can use to clean this up? It's getting rather gross."

Erik stretched along the length of the bed and grabbed the box of Kleenex from his nightstand. He handed it to Charles, who pulled out a lot more tissues than Erik thought was really necessary, scrubbing at his hand until it was clean. Charles stood, doing up his khakis again and crossed the room to Erik's trash can in the corner. It was next to his bookshelf, and Erik could see the moment when Charles got completely distracted by the books. 

Erik stood up, too, pulling jeans and underwear back up and zipping his fly. He checked the alarm clock on his dresser. It was past five already. "What time do you have to be home by?"

Charles shrugged. He was bent at the waist, head tilted to read all the spines of Erik's faded paperbacks. "It doesn't matter. Sharon's out tonight, anyway, for one of her fundraisers."

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Erik said. "It's just Kraft mac and cheese, but..."

Charles glanced away from the books at that, looking back to Erik and giving him a grin. "I would like that very much, actually," he said. "And maybe afterwards we can try studying again."

Erik had to kiss him, so he crossed the room in a few long steps. Charles still tasted different, still tasted like Erik, and the _why_ and _how_ of it buzzed under Erik's skin, all wonder and gratitude.

He wrapped his hand around Charles's wrist. He always liked the way they fit together there, Charles's bones thin but sturdy within the circle of Erik's fingers. "Come on," Erik said, tugging gently, and Charles followed him back to the kitchen.


End file.
